


The Neighbor

by penink



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Todd was drawn to Dirk's insanity even if he denies it, au where I change the layout of Todd's apartment, but the events that impacted Farah's mental health did, continuing the tradition of dirk almost bleeding out to solve a case, dirk makes extra poor choices in this one, even if the man hadn't insinuated himself into Todd's life, oh and everything else, okay it MATTERS, partially because he's a lonely mess, thankfully todd is also a lonely mess, the POINT of this is Todd would have fallen for Dirk, the patrick spring CASE never happened, this is the shortest slow burn ever, with nobody to be sane for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penink/pseuds/penink
Summary: The universe made it so Dirk and Todd would meet.  Or rather,Dirkmade it so Dirk and Todd would meet.  But what if the universe was a little more subtle?  What ifToddfound Dirk before he found him?
Relationships: Farah Black & Todd Brotzman, Todd Brotzman & Dirk Gently
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43
Collections: DGHDA Beginner Bang 2020





	The Neighbor

Todd’s new neighbor hadn’t let him sleep for a week. He hadn’t even known someone had moved in, because he couldn’t think of anyone who could be stupid enough to sign a lease with Dorian. Besides him, of course. The first night he had guessed squatters, but he had a feeling squatters would at least _try_ to be quiet. This guy was banging around at all hours of the night. The only time Todd heard them go quiet was after the front door slammed and they left. Usually at 2 am. Todd _could_ blame the thin walls, which were pathetically thin, but part of it was his fault for putting his bed against the only shared wall of his apartment. No- Actually, he would blame this person wholeheartedly. Who in their right mind is up through all hours of the night _talking_ to themselves? He was pretty sure it was a guy, sounded like it, and the dude talked to himself like he was the only one who would listen and if he annoyed people as much as he was annoying Todd, no wonder.

Todd had only sunk low enough to listen in once so far, and that experience had been enough to put him off it for a while. Whoever was next door was _British_ and seemed to be vigorously dissecting nonsense. Talking about _clues_ and missing… well, Todd didn’t know what was missing. He swore the guy had said _ducks_ \- ducts? - but neither of those made any sense. Particularly because the man had definitely mentioned the Calvetti family. The definitely-not-a-mob organization which was just famous enough to warrant a wikipedia page but not famous enough that it had any entries on their actual expeditions. At least, not the ones that would get a target on the back of anyone stupid enough to snitch. So. Either this guy was fully insane - Todd would not be surprised considering it seemed like he never actually slept - or was involved in some serious shit. Neither option made Todd want to go over and ask for a cup of sugar. 

Still, it was around 2 am once again and Todd couldn’t sleep. He had work tomorrow - as he did almost every day - but for some reason he was lying awake in bed with the profound feeling that something was off. Eventually, after another hour of brooding, he realized why and began to hate himself for it. His loud neighbor had gone silent. It was the quiet keeping him awake, rather than the muffled chatter of whatever this guy did at night. Todd thought back, and had a feeling his neighbor had been silent for a few days now. And Todd was fairly confident it wasn’t because the man had suddenly decided to be quiet, more likely he hadn’t been home. 

“Are you serious, Todd- are you actually _worried_ about this guy?” Todd sat up, muttering aloud into his empty apartment. Great. Now _he_ was talking to himself. That was a new low even for him. 

Regardless of his usual bitterness, Todd still found himself out of bed pressing his ear to the wall for some sign of life. Nothing. There was no way he was getting to sleep now, especially since he was now aware of what was keeping him up. Maybe the guy hadn’t been home in days, what made Todd think he was going to conveniently show up now because he happened to be pressing his ear to the wall? 

Todd jumped as the bang of the front door slamming shut shook through the wall. Typical. The moment he had been about to talk himself out of spending the rest of the night with his ear pressed to the wall, the bastard came home. This did not mean Todd was planning on turning away. 

“While I appreciate the escort- well, actually, I don’t appreciate it at all, but either way, why don’t you leave so I can get back to work?” That same fast-paced, jaunity british voice, muffled far too little by the shitty walls Dorian deemed up to code. The difference was, it sounded like he was talking to someone this time. Todd, in his - thankfully limited - amount of time of listening in on this guy’s life had never heard someone else been there. 

“No way, Gently, not until you explain how you knew to be there,” the other voice was far from friendly. 

“I _told_ you. I don’t know. I had a hunch,” his neighbor, with the surname Gently, apparently, responded with an irritated sigh loud enough for Todd to hear it. 

“You had a _hunch?_ ” The stranger responded with equal irritation. Christ- it was nearly three in the morning couldn’t these two sort this out tomorrow when they weren’t all clearly agitated and exhausted? Todd included? Still, even as he thought this he kept his ear pressed to the wall. 

“ _Yes_ a _hunch._ I was in the neighborhood and-” 

“You were in the _warehouse district_. You weren’t just _in the neighborhood_ \- so who sent you?!” 

“No one _sent_ me, thank you very much. Actually, I haven’t even been officially _hired_ , but this _is_ my case-” 

“I call bullshit. You better start giving me some real answers, Gently. A lot of people want to get their hands on that duck and you’re the only one who’s actually stuck their nose in this far.” 

There it was again! They were definitely talking about a duck. Todd guessed it might be a code, unless the mob were obsessed with birds. 

“You know as much as I do! The warehouse was empty. At least, there definitely wasn’t a duck there, I checked. Either way, Roman Calvetti is the one who wants this duck back, right? But you don’t work for the Calvetti family.” 

“No, I don’t. You should be glad you don’t work for them either, if you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

“Well. Obviously. If I worked for them I would actually know where to look-” 

Todd flinched, starting back from the wall at the sound of a bang and something breaking. 

“Okay, _rude._ And absolutely unnecessary!” Gently seemed upset, but surprisingly unphased considering. 

“You better watch your mouth, Gently. You talk too much.” 

“You know I’ve actually heard that before-” 

Another crash and the sound of ceramic shattering. 

“Would you like to continue threatening me or are you planning on killing all of my houseplants while you’re here?” This guy was either brave or a complete idiot. Possibly both. 

“If I find out you’re working for the Calvettis, our next conversation will be about where you want to be buried.” 

“Wait, so you’d kill me, but you’d give me a say in where I get buried? What if I asked for a graveyard, though, you couldn’t get away with burying me there-” 

“Shut up! Stop. Talking.” Gently apparently knew enough to keep his mouth shut now. “You get any information, you bring it to me, got it?” 

“Bring it to- How do you expect me to do that? I don’t know how to contact you.” 

“I’ll be back in 48 hours. If you don’t give us something by then, I’ll be breaking a lot more than fucking pots.” 

The front door slammed shut and Gently remained quiet. Todd wasn’t used to him not ambling about loudly. Maybe the guy actually was a little scared, Todd knew he would be. It sounded like he wasn’t being threatened by the Calvettis, but another dangerous faction had _followed him to his apartment_. Todd would not want to be in his shoes. In fact, Todd thought the smartest thing to do was keep as far away from his neighbor as possible. 

So why did he feel so anxious? 

Still, now that he was relatively confident his neighbor wasn’t currently being murdered, he could crash once again. 

The following day did not pity him for his lack of sleep. He was late for work because of said lack of sleep, his boss chewed him out in that self righteous ‘I feel bad for you but not enough to stop telling you where you should be right now’ kind of way, and his sister still refused to talk to him. 

The only vaguely not bad thing he had going for him was he had dinner with Farah planned. Not a date by any means, just their usual resentful takeout because their therapists wouldn’t let them bitch without psychoanalyzing their problems. Todd had met Farah several months ago as they went to the same practice. Farah was there figuring out how to cope with her desire to control and anxiety about those she was responsible for. The man she was in charge of security for was murdered. His daughter was missing for days before Farah found her. Not exactly something easy to process alone. 

Todd was in therapy for, well, far less heroic reasons. 

Todd was a liar. He had lied to his family, his friends, technically to the police. Still, he had been found out. His mother had called his doctor to ask about a treatment option for his sister. The doctor, who his mom had _never_ had to reach out to before, politely explained that Todd Brotzman had never been his patient and had never come in to get a prescription for pararibulitis. 

The following weeks had been a nightmare. 

Amanda refused to talk to him, it had been six months and she _still_ refused to talk to him, his parents had started talking to him again once Todd had caved and promised to start paying his parents back and pay for himself to go to therapy. As such, Todd was miserable, vaguely guilty, and broke. Still, Todd hadn’t really learned remorse or how to atone. Amanda actually refused to let Todd pay for her medication now and last he’d heard she was going travelling with a band. Well, Todd assumed it was a band. Unless it was a very small cult that referred to themselves as ‘the rowdy three’. 

Todd wasn’t even allowed to be worried about her, apparently. Farah had called him out on his bullshit several times. Todd was less inclined to get defensive as when he had met her in the parking lot after a session she had been shouting at empty cars that had boxed her in. It was in that borderline insane blur of words that Todd had paused, just watching her half shout into the empty air. Farah, having noticed she had an audience, turned her ranting on him. 

They had been semi-reluctant therapy buddies ever since. 

“You look more disgruntled than usual, Todd,” Farah pointed out after Todd had spent the past ten minutes staring moodily at his burger. 

“Tired, that’s all.” 

“You’re always tired. What’s made it so bad this time?” Farah asked. 

“Some guy moved in next door.” 

“I’m… sorry?” Farah gave him a look. “You might want to elaborate.” 

“He’s some weird british guy who never sleeps,” Todd explained. “And when I say weird, I mean _really_ weird.” 

“Like, weirder than you?” 

“Hey- you’re the one who found a way to complain about the way the ketchup and mustard was arranged at a Five Guy’s.” 

Farah gestured vehemently to the row of now neatly arranged bottles at the other end of their table. “Put the salt and pepper together, put the mustard and ketchup together, it really isn’t that hard- and they have a rack for a reason, so why didn’t they use it while setting the table?-” 

“Hey, refocus,” Todd pulled Farah back to the present. “He’s weirder than us. He doesn’t sleep, like, ever. Or at least not at night. Instead he paces around and talks to himself.” 

“Todd, that isn’t that weird. You’re being overdramatic, you could just put in some earplugs or something-” 

“You didn’t let me finish, Farah. Things got even weirder last night. So, you know the Calvettis?” 

“The… Calvettis…” Farah trailed off, staring at him in more than mild concern. “The family who that reporter called Seattle’s mafia. Do you remember that? You know the guy turned up dead a month later.” 

“I didn’t know that,” Todd frowned, unsurprised, but not at all put at ease. “This isn’t gonna make us feel any better- so, from what I heard, I think my neighbor is being threatened by somebody working against the Calvettis.” 

“Against them…? Like, the police?” Farah was struggling to follow along, mostly because Todd was still being a little vague as this whole weird situation didn’t fully compute for him either. 

“I mean, it’s a possibility, but I feel like the police are a little more careful about threatening people in their homes,” Todd said with more than a little sarcasm. “Whoever it was, last night they followed my neighbor back to his place. Threatened him and stuff.” 

“Did you call the police?” Farah asked, but from the tired way she spoke it seemed she was resigned to the more indecent answer. 

“...no.” 

“Jesus- Todd, are you kidding me? You actually heard someone being threatened by a guy with ties to organized crime and just decided, ‘not my problem’ and went back to bed?” 

“Hey! Not true. I listened until the guy left, at least,” Todd was irritated that the bar was so low for him, even though he knew it was true. 

“You still should’ve called the police,” Farah sighed. “Do you know what they wanted? Why they were threatening him?” 

“I think he might be a cop or something. He said he was investigating, but he said he didn’t know anything, so, whoever was threatening him said if he didn’t give them information or something, they’d come back,” Todd explained. He wasn’t sure if it was worth mentioning the duck. 

“No. He definitely wasn’t a cop,” Farah shook her head. “A cop, at least a decent cop, would never be so stupid. Breaking a dozen rules, disobeying protocol when dealing with suspects-” 

“Okay, so he’s not a cop, but he’s definitely an idiot involved in some bad shit.” 

“Wait- you said that if he didn’t have information, they’d come back? What’re you gonna do?” 

“What am I- What am I gonna _do?_ ” Todd asked. 

“Yes, Todd. You’re not just going to sit around while you hear this guy get murdered, right?” Farah managed to look at him with such profound judgement in her eyes. 

“No- I mean, I wasn’t planning on it, but what do you expect me to do about it?” Todd frowned. 

“I don’t know- maybe call the cops tomorrow night?” Farah responded with sarcasm. 

“I would rather not do that. I don’t really like cops,” Todd muttered. 

“Oh my god- are you serious, Todd? Stop worrying about yourself and just help some guy about to get murdered next door,” Farah was growing exasperated. 

“Fine, fine! Next time I hear things, I’ll do something.” 

That night Todd decided to start the evening by listening for his neighbor. The silence from his apartment probably didn’t mean he had been murdered one day early, the guy usually was out all hours of the day and night. Todd eventually gave up. Only to wake with a start to the front door slamming shut next door. Todd groggily remembered the chaos from the night before and Farah’s warnings and took a moment to listen in through the wall. Not much noise, which was unusual for him, but there was no other voices threatening him either, so Todd assumed the guy was okay enough that he could go back to sleep. 

Todd spent the majority of the next day at work with half his mind in the hotel and the other half feeling vaguely anxious for the man next door. 

His boss chastised him for being so out of it, but Todd was too tired to care. This ridiculous new neighbor was both the most exciting and worst thing to happen to him in a long time. 

Todd was back at his apartment in record time. The thing was, getting home faster didn’t mean whatever was going to happen next door was going to happen any sooner. Instead, Todd paced, fiddled with his guitar for about five minutes, and then got a slightly bad idea. He got out his laptop, going to search the last name “Gently” in the Seattle area. There were six with the last name “Jentile” in the city, but five of them were women and the sixth name came up alongside an obituary, so he assumed it wasn’t the guy he was looking for - if it was he would have a lot more concerns than just what was happening that night. And he was relatively confident the guy was called _Gently_ , not Jentile. The wall between them was that absurdly thin. 

Regardless, even if the wall had been up to code, Todd would have heard the calamity that came with his neighbor’s arrival home. Todd had no idea why the guy even came home, if he was being harassed by the mob he would have left. Then again, it was only ten or so, so he was home a little sooner than usual. Maybe planning to run for it? Todd took to his usual place of pressing against the wall beside his bed. No voices, but he thought the guy was talking to himself, not the loud, overzealous usual tones, more like muttering that Todd couldn’t hope to understand. Whatever he was moving around and doing he was trying to do it fast. 

There was a bang of the front door slamming open, causing Todd to jump back again. He was quick to return to his post, listening intently. 

“Where do you think you’re going, _detective?_ ” A familiarly threatening voice had returned. Also, Todd now knew his neighbor was a detective, which made sense, he supposed. And from Farah’s assessment that the guy definitely wasn’t a cop Todd guessed he was a private eye. 

“Ah, well, you see, I was-” 

A yelp cut off the rest of his sentence along with a dull thud. That was _not_ a pot being broken. 

“Oh fuck, oh _fuck_ \- come on, do something-” Todd started pacing from foot to foot, shaking his hands out with a frazzled sort of panic. This was the part where he called the cops. “Fuck.” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to call the police. Even if he sent it in anonymously, Dorian would be at his throat in a minute. Stealing rent from his psychotic landlord tended to do that. 

Maybe he could just do nothing. Farah wouldn’t have to know. This guy got himself into this mess, right? He should take responsibility for it. Todd was under no obligation to endanger himself for the jackass who’d kept him up for almost two weeks. 

Another bang against the wall that made Todd flinch. 

“Look- I don’t know any more than you do!” The detective sounded properly terrified now. Todd wanted to hide out in the living room and cover his ears until it wasn’t his problem anymore. Of course, that was difficult when there was all that shouting next door. Couldn’t someone _else_ call the police? 

All of those thoughts paused as another shout and the sound of things being knocked over and more angry words came through the wall. 

“You’re full of shit, Gently! You were at the warehouse, the restaurant- you’re living across from the drop site, for fucks sake! You know we’re not being unreasonable here,” it was another voice, a different one. Two on one. Todd’s fleeting thought of this detective being able to defend himself died. “If you don’t cough up something- I’m not seeing any other options for you here.” 

Todd paced for another moment, before, without another coherent choice to be made or any more time to overthink, he all but ran to his own front door, rushing into the hallway, and going to his neighbor’s door in his pajamas. No weapon, no plan, no shoes. 

Before Todd could second guess himself again, he knocked rapidly on his neighbor’s door. Silence fell inside. After a moment’s hesitation, Todd pressed an ear to the front door, but they all had gone quiet inside. Distant, angry whispering was all he could make out, utterly incomprehensible. 

Todd jumped back as the door opened and his first thought wasn’t exactly helpful. Of course this bastard was handsome. Tall, lanky, pale, but undeniably handsome. Beyond these initial thoughts, other than looking a little disheveled, his white button up wrinkled, his tie loose, he seemed unharmed. In fact, he looked more confused than anything. 

“Can I… help you?” Gently tilted his head at him curiously, an ingenuine smile not masking the fact that he still looked overwhelmed and haggard. 

“No- I mean, yeah-” Todd had no idea what his plan was. Gently glanced back into his apartment, likely looking at someone Todd couldn’t see. 

“Are you okay?” This guy was worried about _him_. 

Todd was worried if he said “hey, you’re being harassed right now, want that to not happen?” he would be dragged into the apartment by those same threats. 

“Yeah- I’m fine, it’s just,” Todd paused, staring past Gently into his apartment, looking for some sign of something being wrong. There was a broken potted plant on the floor. It was dead already. “You know, you’re really loud.” 

“What’s that?” Gently’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened further than Todd would have thought possible. Not that he could blame him, if Todd got a house call in the midst of being threatened by the mob and said visitor began to complain, he would be surprised too. 

“You- you’re really loud at night. I- I live next door-” Todd realized he probably had no idea who he was, and should probably clarify, pointing down the hall at his apartment. “And you’re… you’re really loud.” Todd was scrambling for some way to tell this guy if he fell of the map someone would give a shit, even if he had no idea why. “I hear you… uhm. Arguing? And, well, just thought I’d ask you to keep it down, but if you get too quiet too, I’ll let you know, okay? You live here too. So, if I don’t hear anything from you, I’ll check in.” Todd could only hope if he was earnest enough this guy would get that Todd would be back to make sure he was still alive, while also making sure whoever was inside didn’t decide Todd was too involved to get to stay in the hall. 

The brit seemed to be trying to figure something out about him, looking him over with more curiosity than confusion now. Todd now, upon looking closer, saw a thin cut just over the man’s startlingly kind blue eyes. Todd needed to get his head out of his ass. It was pathetically lonely enough that he’d taken to listening in on this guy’s life, he couldn’t get caught up in him any more, handsome or not. 

“Well, thank you, Todd. I’ll keep it down,” after that strange dishonest smile before, the parting one was far too open for Todd’s liking. 

“Okay, thanks,” Todd turned to leave as the man shut the door before having a rather jarring awakening. Rather like deja vu in reverse. “Wait- how did you know my-” The door was already shut. So Todd was left to deal with whatever the hell that meant alone. 

Todd went to return to his own apartment. “Fuck.” Todd muttered, hitting his head against the now locked door between him and his bed. Todd made his way downstairs and outside onto the freezing pavement, worked his way around the building, clambered on top of the dumpster (this took several minutes) and climbed up the fire escape, feeling grateful that he had left his window unlocked. 

Todd was fully prepared to just fall into bed, but he gave one more listen in on his neighbor. There was no more shouting or things being broken, which meant either things had calmed down or his neighbor had been murdered in the time it took for him to climb back inside. He would find out tomorrow. 

Todd was ready to leave for work, but hesitated, wondering if it would be weird to knock on his neighbor’s door at 7:30 in the morning, or if it would be worse to wait until that evening. Todd still hadn’t made up his mind when he went into the hallway and smacked into someone who was very yellow. 

“Sorry-” Todd muttered before registering who it was. It was his neighbor, in a violently yellow jacket, coming _home_ from somewhere. After last night, where did this guy find the energy to go out even later? 

“You,” was all Todd could think to say. 

“Yes, me?” Gently looked at him curiously. He also somehow seemed more nervous now than he was last night. He was hiding something underneath that absurdly bright jacket. “Oh- right- you’re the one who knocked on my door last night- I hope I didn’t keep you up any later?” Even as he said this, he was turning away from Todd, one hand in still tucked under his jacket. 

“No- But-” Todd was distracted by his shifty behavior and by his own questions for the man. “How did you…” He trailed off as he swore he heard _chirping_ from whatever the man was hiding. Gently noticed his staring and turned even further away, all but looking at him over his shoulder. 

“Look- I’ve got to get going, so-” the detective fumbled with the keys to his apartment, in doing so he let go of his jacket enough that Todd was staring at a duckling in the man’s other hand. _The duck._ Todd couldn’t even pretend that this clarified any of the duck conversations he had heard between his neighbor and those other men. 

“You… have a…” 

“What?” Gently looked a little more alarmed now. “Yes, I know- but please don’t tell Dorian! He doesn’t seem like one to be lax on the no-pets policy. Not that it’s a pet even, really it’s evidence-” 

“ _Evidence?_ ” Todd grew even more baffled. 

“Doesn’t matter, but please, don’t tell him,” Gently seemed to actually think Todd would snitch to Dorian about _anything_. Todd didn’t care if this guy was bringing home a bag of cocaine -then again, Dorian might have a more positive reaction to that over a duck- but he still had a question for the man. 

“I won’t, but- hey, how did you know my name?” Todd was particularly concerned that his neighbor knew his name considering his apparent ties to organized crime. 

“Your name..?” Gently seemed equally puzzled. 

“Yeah? You called me ‘Todd’ last night- How do you know my name?” Todd knew he was getting defensive, but he thought his concerns were quite valid. 

“You live next door to me.” 

Todd was all the more baffled. “Okay, and?” 

“Your mailbox is next to mine. It has your name on it?” Gently was growing a little patronizing, as if it was supposed to be obvious. 

“Wait- and you remembered that?” Todd was aware he was likely going to be a little late to work now, but he didn’t have the energy to care. He was too busy being annoyed with this absolute absurdity of a man. 

“Not exactly hard, I see your name every time I check the mail,” he had lived here just over a _week_. Gently had unlocked his door by now. “Although I suppose it’s not fair that I know your name and you don’t know mine- I’m Dirk Gently,” he leaned on his door to keep it open, one hand still holding the duckling close to his chest, the other searching through his pockets for what turned out to be a business card. “But please don’t tell anyone that I live here. It’s a matter of personal safety, if you don’t mind. And on the off chance someone asks about your neighbor, tell them-” He seemed to be mulling it over in his head even though Todd thought the whole thing was absolutely unnecessary. Why would Todd talk to someone about his neighbor? Ah, well, the fact that he had complained to Farah was besides the point. “Tell them I’m a doctor. Who works at… hospital.” With an affirming nod, Dirk Gently shut the door on him. 

Todd remained momentarily frozen, staring after his neighbor who was somehow only weirder in public than he was while ranting in his own apartment. He glanced down at the business card, in a neat, professional font it read, _Dirk Gently - Holistic Detective_. Whatever the hell that meant. Without another thought, or rather, far too many thoughts to focus on, he shoved the card in his pocket and hurried off to work, expecting his manager to once again scold him for being late and out of it. Still, no one could expect him to focus as more and more of his neighbor’s oddities were unraveling far too close for comfort. 

“Wait- you _still_ didn’t call the police?” Farah was utterly exasperated with him. 

“He was fine. I did check on him, though!” 

“Yeah- which was inconceivably more dangerous! You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You _and_ your neighbor’s bodies, dumped in the ocean.” A passing waiter at the diner they had chosen looked at her curiously at this comment. 

“Yeah, but we didn’t get killed. It was fine.” Todd continued to fiddle with his cutlery, not looking at her. 

“Do you know if those people are coming back?” 

“...No.” 

“Did they get what they wanted?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Todd, you have not helped this guy. How could you not call the police?” 

“Why didn’t _I_ call the police? Shouldn’t this guy be the one calling the police if he needs help?” Todd finally looked up at her, defensive to a fault. 

Farah gave him a look, “Todd, you have been in therapy for four months now. _How_ have you made so little progress?” 

“That’s not fair and you know that. I have gotten better. Four months ago I wouldn’t have even bothered checking on him,” even as Todd said it, part of him worried Farah was right. Was he _really_ that bad still? No wonder Amanda didn’t talk to him. 

“Well next time you go next door-” Farah rummaged through her bag, pulling out a pair of brass knuckles. “Don’t go over there blind. Look, next time if you’re too stubborn to call the police, call me instead, okay?” Farah sighed, realizing Todd had no intention of changing his ways. “I can help a lot more than you can if it comes down to a fight.” 

Todd took the brass knuckles without much certainty. “You’d do that?” 

“Instead of letting you get yourself killed by the mob? Yeah, I’d do that,” Farah grew sarcastic, but Todd was relieved if at least this meant he really wouldn’t need to call the cops next time things went bad next door. Maybe it was absurd, but he did not want, a. Dorian breathing down his neck for bringing cops into his drug front, or b. Cops breathing down his neck once they found out he had lied on a police report before. 

Oddly enough, Todd soon learned Dirk Gently also didn’t want the police called. 

The fact that Todd now always had an ear out for noise next door was pathetic enough, but even worse was him choosing to listen in on him the moment something happened. A bang, not as violent as before, but loud enough for him to hear. Todd abandoned the dishes, drying his hands on his jeans, before rushing to his bedroom like an anxious old woman looking for trouble. 

“-this what you do now, you just _attack_ people?!” Dirk sounded upset. Maybe more taken aback than anything, definitely more so than when he was being threatened before. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I got confused,” another low voice joined in, but he wasn’t talking to Dirk. Todd could hear the man’s very limited IQ in his tone. 

“Well he seems like a _winner_ ,” Dirk responded sarcastically. Something about him sounded panicked still, something was _wrong_. Maybe more wrong than when the mob was threatening him. Maybe Todd had heard this guy afraid before, but he hadn’t heard him change his behavior because of that fear. The loudmouth almost sounded _timid_. 

“Dirk, we need to talk,” a far calmer voice joined the fray. A quiet, almost patronizing confidence that reminded Todd of a pastor or principal. 

“Why- do you have new lies to tell me?” Dirk sounded vaguely hysterical now and Todd couldn’t bring himself to stop listening even though from whatever this dynamic was he had a feeling he was overhearing something far too personal. 

That calm voice, the competent one, spoke far too softly, it made it hard for Todd to hear him. He swore the guy said _debriefing_ but that sounded far too official for a quirky private eye. 

“Yes, why not- it’s only been _sixteen years_.” Dirk was, of course, loud and perfectly understandable. Todd stopped paying attention for a moment, calculating it in his head, his neighbor looked like he was in his early thirties, around Todd’s age, sixteen years ago he would’ve been a _teenager_. If it really was some old government contact that made no sense. 

The man still spoke way too quietly, but he was closer to Dirk now, it seemed, “-that’s why we bailed you out, it’s the least you could do.” Todd caught the second half of whatever he said. 

“The least _I_ could do?” Dirk’s voice was shaking. Todd could hear it even from the other side. Todd still wasn’t sure if the right thing to do was knock on the door, keep listening, or mind his own business. 

“This is in your best interest-” 

“You promised them something and you couldn’t deliver. You promised _me_ something, and you couldn’t deliver.” 

“Dirk, I am not the enemy,” the stranger was getting louder now, not aggressive by any means, but jarring compared to the former tone. Todd jumped back as it sounded like Dirk had backed further away and hit the wall between them, through that they were mere inches apart now, Todd only wished the guy knew he wasn’t alone. Something was very wrong here, despite the whole “debriefing” point making this sound like business, their relationship almost seemed familial. Todd was growing more and more ashamed for his evesdropping but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. 

By now the stranger was close enough that Todd could make out his softer words, “and you’re not a detective.” Something so critical and _mocking_ underneath all that concern. “You’re going to get yourself hurt or killed and I won’t be able to protect you.” 

“No- That’s not- I’m-” It seemed Dirk couldn’t find a defense to that. Wasn’t he working a case now? Despite this, it seemed Dirk couldn’t figure out how to justify himself to the man, not that Todd blamed him, the guy seemed pretty lonely. That couldn’t make any of this much easier for him. 

“Please, you know I’m right. I am trying to protect you. I don’t know what they’ll do.” 

“I don’t- I don’t want you to- Stay away from me!” 

“Let me help you, Dirk. You can’t be trusted alone out here, you’re not helping anyone by throwing yourself into harm’s way.” 

“Get out. I- I want you to leave. Now,” Dirk didn’t sound braver, but he _did_ sound desperate and alone. 

“Do you want me to engage, sir?” Todd had almost forgotten there was someone else there. He almost felt territorial, like this idiot didn’t have the right to be listening in on this whole thing any more than he did. 

“No, Friedkin, stand down. Project Icarus is more reasonable than that, isn’t that right, Dirk?” 

“Don’t- Don’t call me that-” 

“I am not here to cause problems for you, Dirk, but we simply cannot allow you to continue to endanger yourself like this.” 

“What, are you going to drag me away? Finally gone off the edge, have we?!” 

“Of course not, but be practical, if you’re going to solve this… _case_ , you shouldn’t be doing this alone.” 

“What, _you’re_ going to help me? You don’t care about any of this, you’re just here to take this from me-” 

“Now that’s not fair, you’re overreacting,” this patronizing asshole was starting to remind Todd of every manipulative authority figure he could remember. “How about this- I will let you try and solve your case, I won’t interfere, I won’t bother you, but next time you get into trouble, next time you wind up in jail or in the hospital, you come back with us, where Blackwing can protect you.” 

“ _Protect_ me, as if-” 

“I asked you to try and be reasonable,” it was disconcerting how quickly this man made Dirk fall silent. “I am being more than generous, here. If that still isn’t good enough, I’m afraid I simply cannot allow you to be out here alone getting into trouble-” 

“No- You’re not going to ruin this for me- why can’t you just leave me alone?!” 

“I am giving you that chance. You just have to take it. I will leave you alone, but next time you get yourself into trouble, you come back with us.” 

A moment of silence. Todd already knew from that what Dirk was going to say. 

“Okay. Okay- _fine_ but only if you leave me alone.” This didn’t sound like a deal, it sounded like extortion. Dirk just wanted these guys out of his apartment. 

“Thank you, Dirk, I knew you’d come around in the end.” 

“I didn’t _come around_ to anything- you’re going to leave me alone!” 

“Of course, I understand. We’ll be around, if you need anything-” 

“I need you to get out.” 

Todd heard them all move towards the front door and found himself rushing to his own front door. He needed to see whoever these people were. 

“-don’t know about this, sir, are you sure you don’t want me to go back there and get him?” 

“No need. He’ll find a way to get into trouble. He always does. Either way- I promised to leave him alone while he _solves the case_ , but we can always try again after. Trust me, this way he’ll come back to us without much fuss. We need him cooperative-” 

The pair passed by Todd’s door. A short man who definitely looked like an evil principal who masqueraded benevolence, and a young blond who was pretty enough to explain his stupidity, if one were to follow those kinds of stereotypes. Both were in full on military gear, the younger man heavily armed. _Shit_. This was proper serious. What the hell was this guy involved in? Todd paced for a moment, wanting direly to go next door and make sure Dirk was okay, but that still felt like crossing a line, and how would he justify himself? By admitting to desperately listening in on everything he did? _That_ would go over well. 

Todd returned to the wall dividing their two apartments, but he could hear nothing from the other side. That rare silence was far more disconcerting than him talking to himself. Todd, feeling like there was nothing he could do to help the man beyond finding a way to creep him out more, returned to his kitchen. Washing dishes felt far too mundane after all that. What even _was_ that- it wasn’t the mob, but it definitely wasn’t just local police, and it sounded like his neighbor _knew_ the guy? Was this weird detective’s dad also part of the FBI? But it couldn’t be his dad, he was American. Sure, could have been some familial separation when he was younger, Todd reasoned, but that still didn’t explain how the government was involved. And there were so many weird words thrown around in that conversation- _Icarus_ and _black wing_ , what was up with these people and birds? 

Part of him wanted to text Farah, another wanted to call Amanda and that definitely wouldn’t go well. Instead of doing either of those things, Todd did what he always did with his spare time. Absolutely nothing. Still, before bed he found himself pressed against the wall, listening for some sign of life. Nothing. He didn’t think he’d heard the detective leave, but that didn’t mean much. Todd paused only for another moment as he swore he heard faint _chirping_ from the other side. Well, at least the guy wasn’t totally alone. 

And hey, if those guys came back and tried to do something to Dirk, he could just call the police, right? The problem was, that pair already seemed to be in government, which meant he was screwed. If the government was after him, it wasn’t like there was anything Todd could do. 

As more days slipped by under monotony Todd didn’t notice anything else concerning from next door, other than the usual bouts of silence followed by Dirk talking to himself. He was still naturally drawn to call Amanda, he missed her despite knowing exactly why she refused to answer his calls, but instead again called Farah. 

“Are you calling me to tell me weird stuff about your neighbor?” She knew him too well. Todd glanced back to the wall dividing their apartments. 

“Yes,” Todd muttered, returning to his shitty cooking on the stove. “Don’t pretend this isn’t the most interesting thing to happen to you in months.” 

“Yes, Todd, but I’d rather be bored than involved in dangerous shit,” was Farah’s far too rational retort. 

“You’re not gonna die from me telling you, are you?” Todd stirred gloomily, his apartment suffocatingly empty, even with Farah on the phone. 

“Okay, so what’s happened?” 

“...you’re gonna think I’m crazy.” 

“Maybe. How about you tell me and find out?” 

Todd paused, recalling how Dirk had specifically said not to tell anyone about him, who or where he was. Well. It was probably too late anyways. “So, I think this guy is actually being threatened like, by the military. Or something like that.” 

“The military.” 

“Yep.” 

“And what makes you think that?” 

“They had guns and were in like, fucking body armor, and were talking in code or something- about Blackwing and Icarus and shit,” Todd explained, using his free hand to pile dirty dishes in the sink, his mind half in his kitchen the other half next door. “It was weird.” 

“I am just going to blindly believe you besides this making no sense- but why weird? Or, why is it extra weird?” 

“He like- He _knew_ them.” 

“Well, yeah, he must’ve if they were in his apartment.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant- it was, it was weird.” 

“Yeah you’ve already said that.” 

“I know- I just don’t know how to explain it. It was personal. This older dude almost seemed to scare him,” Todd struggled to articulate what he had overheard. 

“Like the mob did?” 

“No- _worse_. He got a little nervous when that guy was threatening him, but the ones from that night made him panic,” Todd sighed, staring at the stir fry he had been absentmindedly heating up with little appetite. 

“Okay, fair, that is weird. Personal how- like these guys were off duty and decided to spook their friend in riot gear?” 

“Definitely not friends. The younger one just seemed like stupid hired muscle, but the older guy really creeped me out. Felt like- well, it felt like Dirk has been manipulated by him before.” 

“...Dirk?” 

Todd felt himself get flushed but he wasn’t really sure why. “Yeah- he, uh, he gave me his business card. Introduced himself.” 

“And you’ve taken to referring to him by his first name.” 

“I mean- I guess, felt weird just thinking about him in the abstract, you know?” Todd knew this was a bullshit justification. 

“Todd, it just concerns me that you’ve been thinking about him this much at all.” 

“Well it’s a little hard not to when I can hear him running around all the time,” Todd snapped but it was practically a lie considering how extra invested he’d gotten the moment the guy had fallen silent. 

“Okay- let me get this straight,” Farah tried to refocus. “Your neighbor, who’s name is Dirk Gently-” 

“He’s a private eye, you were right on that- hey, do you know what a ‘holistic detective’ is? Is it like a code or something?” Todd interrupted. 

“A holistic- I have no idea. Never heard of it. But he’s being threatened by an enemy of the mob and by… the military? Did they say FBI or anything?” 

“No, but I didn’t catch all of it,” Todd explained. “Ah- _shit_ -” Todd quickly turned off the stove, his cooking half burnt. Was he really that distracted now? “-Sorry, just- was stupid.” 

“Look, Todd, you’re worrying about stuff you can’t control. I think you should just leave it. It’s been what- three days since you’ve heard anything weird?” 

“Four,” Todd muttered. “But that’s what worries me.” 

“Todd. Let it _go_. Relax, go to bed early. Don’t you have to be at work at 7 tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, but-” 

“But _what?_ You think something’s going to happen tonight? Todd- how about you just go to bed and if you don’t hear anything tonight, you try and let things go back to normal, okay? And if something bad happens, I will say you were right and won’t tell you off again.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” A pause. “Okay, good night Todd. Again- call me if you need help. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Night Farah,” Todd sighed. The silence in his apartment again pressing in. Todd’s therapist would say he was coping with his sister’s rejection and his tendency to push people away by latching onto the problems of someone who he could get attached to without endangering himself emotionally. If he could care about Dirk without Dirk knowing what he was doing, he could fill that void without putting himself at risk for rejection again. 

Or he was just reading into this whole mess too much. 

Nothing happened that night, which by all means should be a good thing, but it did mean Todd’s job for the next few days was to stop worrying about Dirk and focus on worrying about himself. Todd spent more energy trying to be in the moment than actually being in the moment, but he wasn’t obsessing over his poor neighbor, so that had to count for something. Everything felt so damn slow. The elevator felt slower, the luggage heavier, the guests stupider, and Todd was tired of it. _And_ his boss had told him- not _asked_ him- to stay late. What stopped him from strangling his boss (other than him being too short to reach) was the fact that the alternative was homelessness. And prison time. For the, you know, strangling. 

Todd refused to call Farah because that would mean admitting that nothing else had happened and Todd had worried for nothing. Going home also meant feeling compelled to listen in on his neighbor. Neither option made him feel better. Todd did his best to waste time before going home. This mainly involved gloomily trudging through a grocery store and buying more alcohol than any one person could need. While still in a fucking bellhop uniform. 

_And_ after his car fucking refused to start and he could _not_ afford to call a tow. He would’ve been stuck there or had to take the bus if he hadn't gotten lucky enough to get a jump start from some dude next to him. For 20 bucks. This random fucking dude charged him 20 bucks since he was clearly desperate. 

Still, he got home a little after ten. So. That meant a few less hours stressing over his neighbor for no reason. 

Todd was thinking too much about his neighbor. Because right now he swore he saw him crawling in through his window. 

“Hiii.” 

Todd, knowing him or not, prepared to chuck a shoe at him, the motherfucker was climbing in his _window_ \- But he paused. Dirk Gently fell through his window and hit the ground hard. 

“I- I am very sorry- I think I might’ve gone through the wrong window-” Dirk gasped when he hit the floor. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Todd dropped his shoe and rushed to the man’s side. 

“I was trying to get into my apartment, but it seems I ended up outside the wrong window-” 

“I meant more like,” Todd gestured to Dirk about to pass out on the floor. 

“Well- I was initially just trying to find the owner of this duck- well, turns out it was _another_ duck- but that’s besides the point because I suppose what you’re really asking about is this-” he gestured drowsily to his side. 

“Holy _shit_ \- How the fuck-” Todd now noticed that the man’s shirt was soaked in blood. 

“Well I may have been kind of- moderately- sort of stabbed-” 

“ _Stabbed?_ ” 

“Only minorly, and I worked very hard to keep the knife in, and you know- keep the blood in- but I don’t think it’s really working anymore,” Dirk was looking especially pale, and from the one time they had actually met he was already very pale. “Lots of blood, isn’t where it’s supposed to be… and now it’s on your floor… I should be going now… back to my apartment- _oof_.” Dirk had tried to sit up and immediately hit the ground again. Hard. 

“Ow…” 

“No no, you’re not going anywhere-” Todd grabbed a pillow off of his couch and put it underneath the guy’s head before he hit the ground again. “How did this happen, like, where were you? Who did this?” He hesitated, staring at the knife still in the guy’s side, unsure if he was supposed to put pressure on it or what. 

“Well to start, the other duck was a mistake, and dealing with multiple sects of organized crime rings- well, the mafia. Different sects of the mafia - was a lot more dangerous than I thought-” 

“The- The _mafia_ was a lot more dangerous than you thought?!” 

“I was more concerned with the duck!” 

“The _duck?”_ Todd sputtered. 

“It turns out there were _two_ ducks in this case, quite unusual, considering there usually isn’t even _one_ -” 

“You need to just- just stop talking and focus on not bleeding out, okay?” Todd’s panic was not being helped by this guy’s nonstop ranting. “So, it was the mafia guys, not the military?” 

“The- What makes you think the military were involved?” Dirk looked at him curiously now, surprisingly lucid despite the blood continuing to flow down his side and onto Todd’s floors. 

“Nothing- why- why did you climb through a _window_? Are you insane, you’ve been stabbed so why didn’t you use your front door?!” 

“Well, actually, I was planning on using my front door but there are some very unfriendly men in the downstairs lobby at the moment and I’m relatively sure they’re waiting down there for me.” 

“What am I talking about- why the fuck did you even come back to your apartment? Why didn’t you go to the ER? Or the police?” Todd was going to lose it if something didn’t make sense real soon. 

“I… needed to…” Dirk squinted up at him foggily. A pause where Todd felt very observed. “You know… you have very pretty eyes. They’re like little glowing moons…” 

Todd didn’t know if he should feel more flattered or concerned. It was just bloodloss talking, surely. “You’re still bleeding- fuck- I’ve got to call an ambulance-“ 

“No!” Dirk all but shouted at him, reaching up and grabbing onto the collar of Todd’s uniform. “Please, you can’t get the police involved if they find out I’ve gotten myself into trouble again- I can’t go back, I just can’t and I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer next time-“ 

“Alright, alright! I get it, I won’t call the cops!” Todd caved immediately, not that Dirk knew why Todd was being so understanding. Not that Todd planned on telling him that he had been listening in on him for days. If he was trying to be more moral, maybe his snooping hadn’t been the best idea, but surely his neighbor would thank him now. “And you also said there are men downstairs waiting for you to walk into this building.” 

“Well- Yes,” Dirk said. “But see- they don’t know I’m here.” 

“And what happens when you never show up? Come on, man, you can’t hide up here forever.” 

“Ah, well, I hadn’t thought about that, or, well, planned for that, and, if anything they’ll come upstairs and break into my apartment, trash all of my stuff-” Dirk sat up with a gasp of panic. “Ah!” 

“What?!” Todd thought the guy might be dying. But also how the fuck was he moving this much with a knife in his side. 

“The duck- The little duck, not the important one, but still- the duck is still in my apartment! They’re gonna break in and I can’t protect him-” Dirk was more distraught over this than getting stabbed. “I’ve got to get him out of there-” 

“Stop trying to sit up- oh, oh no no that is not good, this is so bad,” Todd, feeling queasy, tried to make him sit back as more blood trickled around the knife. “How have you survived this long?!” 

Dirk was looking just as ill as Todd felt, “wait ten minutes and I’ll get back to you on that…” He frowned, struggling to focus, “I need to get the duck…” He tried sitting up again without much success. 

“Jesus, dude, stop trying to move!” Todd was about to pin the guy to the floor if he kept trying to stand up. “I’ll- I’ll go get it, okay?” 

Dirk froze, staring at him in hazy confusion. “Why would you do that? It’s dangerous, those men could come up at any time-” 

“Which is why you should hurry up and give me your keys before they do,” Todd sighed exasperatedly. 

Silent for the first time since crawling in his window, Dirk handed him the keys. 

“Don’t move,” Todd added pointedly as he got to his feet, pacing antsy and fidgety just inside of his door. 

“He’s in the bath,” Dirk called halfheartedly from the floor. 

Todd grabbed a knife from the kitchen before going into the hall. Nothing actually happened, but he still was quick to go into his neighbor’s apartment. It wasn’t clean exactly, mostly just empty. That broken potted plant was still in pieces on the floor from days ago and Todd also noticed that it looked like someone had thrown some plates at the wall and shattered them. Other than that the space had nothing to indicate an interaction with the mob. Todd also noted that there was absolutely nothing personal in the room. No pictures, no knicknacks, the TV hadn’t even been connected. Had the guy not planned on staying? Was this just for a stakeout or the case or whatever? 

Not the time to judge the detective’s lifestyle, he had a feeling that if armed men came upstairs his knife would do little to help and that simply explaining he was the neighbor coming to check in on the duckling wouldn’t save him. Todd found the bathroom easily enough and took another moment to be confused by why all of the man’s toiletries seemed new. Brand new toothpaste and shampoo and all of that. It was like he had bought everything before moving in, like he hadn’t lived or maybe even existed anywhere before now. What kind of insanity- he seemed like the kind of eclectic sort to hoard silly knick knacks and form habits, not to be like a ghost. 

The only sign that a man like Dirk Gently was living there was the pile of towels on the base of the tub and in it was that same duckling he had very carefully held when Todd had first properly met him. Okay. It was cute. Todd was a very proud cynic, but yes, it did manage to melt his cold dead heart. 

Todd awkwardly picked it up, chirping the moment its nest was rustled. He managed to hold it to his chest while also keeping ahold of his knife. Like that would do him any good. Todd put the knife under his arm as he went back to his own apartment, following Dirk’s lead he put the duckling down with a perhaps over the top level of concern in his own empty bathtub. 

“Okay. Your damn duck is safe, now you better stop moving,” Todd returned to his living room, staring down at his unexpected guest. “...Dirk?” He should have realized something was off when the man didn’t immediately start talking upon Todd’s return. It seemed Dirk had taken Todd’s words to heart because _he wasn’t moving._ “Oh god- oh fuck- no no no, you can’t die on my floor- how the hell am I supposed to explain this to anyone?!” Todd fell to his knees, laying against his chest to listen for a heartbeat. Okay. Not dead. Definitely dying. He really hadn’t bled that much since coming here but the problem was he was still slowly bleeding. 

Todd scrambled for his phone, hands now slick with blood, hesitating over the dial. He said he wouldn’t call 911, but the guy was dying, surely he could- Todd didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. 

Farah’s sarcastic tone picked up almost immediately, “What, Todd, you need me to come over there and fight off the mafia for you?” 

“Farah no- I need help, I think h-he’s bleeding out. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do-” 

“Whoa, slow down, Todd- where are you?” 

“I’m at home, my neighbor- he came in through my window and he’s still bleeding, there’s still a knife in his side and there are bad guys downstairs and he begged me not to call the cops so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do-” 

“Where was he stabbed, Todd?” 

“Just like, barely in the side, like it’s not that deep or anything, but he’s unconscious and he’s still bleeding a little, the knife is still in his side-” 

“Okay, okay, that’s good, Todd, don’t move the knife until I can get there to sew him up.” 

“Until you-” 

“I’m coming, okay? I want you to take a clean towel and wrap it around the knife. Put pressure on it, you got that?” 

“Okay, be careful, those guys are still in the lobby.” 

“Trust me, I’ll be fine.” 

“Please hurry.” 

“I’m gonna hang up, okay? You just try and slow the bleeding.” 

“Okay-” 

Farah had hung up and that meant Todd had to try and help this guy. Todd got a towel and returned to his side, wrapping the knife in shaking hands, pressing into his side and wincing on Dirk’s behalf. Dirk’s breathing grew harsher for a moment when Todd started to try and slow the bleeding, but he was still unconscious. 

“Please please please don’t die,” Todd was muttering through gritted teeth, still feeling blood slowly well up around his hands, but it was barely there, so surely that was fine? Farah very well couldn’t do a makeshift blood transfusion so the goal was to keep as much blood inside his body as possible, otherwise they would _have_ to take him to the hospital. 

And what would happen to this guy afterwards? The thing was- from what Todd had overheard outside of his apartment, those government types weren’t going to take no for an answer, even if he didn’t end up in the hospital. 

A knock on his door made Todd jump, causing Dirk to groan as Todd shifted his hold on the wound. “It’s- It’s open.” Todd hadn’t even considered if someone else had come through that door, but it was just Farah with a bag, one hand inside her jacket definitely on a holster. “How’d you get past the guys downstairs?” 

“They’re looking for _that_ guy,” Farah nodded to Dirk unconscious on the floor. “I don’t exactly fit the profile.” She washed her hands and grabbed another one of Todd’s towels to replace the soaked one Todd was holding before joining him. “ _Shit_ you weren’t kidding.” 

“Did you think I was?” 

“Well, if anything I think you were being a bit over dramatic,” Farah had him move back so she could look at the wound. “It’s barely in his side, just muscle and tissue, really. I’m surprised it didn’t tear out getting up here,” Farah was half talking to him, half talking to herself. Todd let out a little yelp of surprise when Farah pulled the knife out. “Calm down and get me some water, will you?” 

Todd scrambled up to get into the kitchen. 

“Bottled, please. Who knows what’s in this building’s tap water,” Farah called over. 

Farah poured water over the wound, washing away the older blood. The wound wasn’t that bad. The knife the kind of little blade people took with them camping. It was strange. If they’d really wanted to kill this guy, why use such a pathetic knife? 

“He took good care of the wound, kept pressure on it, kept the knife in,” Farah kept talking to herself more than anything. “If anything I think it’s the head wound that knocked him out.” 

“The- What-?” 

“The head wound? Did you… did you not see it?” Farah pointed to his head. Todd now saw blood soaking into the pillow coming from just above his left ear. “It looks pretty small, though, like maybe he was trying to get away when they hit him. Explains why he made it this far before passing out, but I bet he was getting pretty dizzy by the time he got here. And then there’s the cut on his leg- I have no idea how he climbed up to your window-” 

“His _leg?_ ” 

“Yes, Todd. Like I said, he was good at covering up the stab wound, so the blood on his leg- it looks like someone cut him there,” Farah explained. “He’s really been through the wringer. I wonder what he was doing..?” 

Todd now looked him over as Farah prepared a suture kit that she of course had had on hand in her apartment. Todd had been so distracted by the knife stuck in his side, he hadn’t bothered to check to make sure the guy wasn’t gonna die from something else. Although, like Farah said, the rest wasn’t bad. There was a small gash in his left thigh, the trail of blood from his side mixing with the blood there. Dirk let out a harsh gasp as Farah first put the needle through. 

“Shit- Todd, do you maybe wanna hold him still if he’s gonna wake up?” Farah asked. 

“Okay, yeah,” Todd put a hand on either shoulder trying to keep him on the floor. Dirk stirred unsteadily. 

“Hello… I don’t believe we’ve met,” he mumbled, staring in weak confusion at Farah beside him. 

“Hi,” Farah said distractedly, more focused on sewing him up than the patient currently making small talk. 

“Do you… live here?” Dirk was deliriously trying to be polite. “Are you friends with Todd?” 

“No, and yes. Sometimes,” Farah gave Todd a scathing look but Todd knew it was out of endearment. 

“That’s nice… and how are you, Todd?” Dirk seemed to notice Todd sitting above him, a hand on either shoulder. Before Todd could respond -as if he had an answer- Dirk winced, inhaling through his teeth. 

“Hang in there. Farah’ll have you patched up soon,” Todd muttered. 

“That’s nice,” Dirk spoke a little breathily as he seemed to be holding back another whimper. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met in our building so far. Most of the neighbors won’t even give me the time of day let alone-” Dirk bit his lip, holding back another gasp as Farah continued to carefully try and patch him up. 

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot for moving in here. Dorian will rob you blind the moment you turn your back,” Todd tried to distract him while also distracting himself from the gruesome sight of Farah treating the guy’s skin like a pair of ripped jeans. 

“You see, there’s a mailbox across the street from _this building_ that turns out to be a very important drop sight, I _think_ for drugs, but I actually didn’t know that before moving in here. Sure was a convenient little coincidence. And with the added benefit that I got stabbed only a few minutes away from here so it was pretty easy to get back-” 

“Todd,” Farah said exasperatedly, staring pointedly between Dirk chatting away and Todd doing nothing to hold him still. 

“Hey, man, you’ve got to hold still, alright?” Todd was directly above him, hands on his shoulders. Dirk looked up at him with far too much focus and curiosity. 

“You’ve lived here for a while, have you, Todd?” Dirk asked, he tilted his head. “This would be an easier conversation if you weren’t upside down.” 

“Maybe we could talk after you’re not bleeding,” Todd once again looked to Farah instead of at the man’s side which was still to gruesome for Todd to cope with. 

“I can talk just fine, thank you very much,” Dirk seemed almost offended by Todd’s concern. “Have you ever seen someone put things in that mailbox? Maybe someone who regularly drops packages there?” 

“It’s a mailbox, yeah, all the time-” Todd frowned. “Wait, are you _questioning_ me right now?” 

Dirk smiled a little sheepishly, “the work never stops. I wasn’t trying to pester you, but they’ve stopped using that sight after they found out where I lived so I was hoping you might’ve seen something before now.” 

“I have no clue. The only drug drops I’ve seen are at Dorian’s front door,” Todd was only half joking. Dorian definitely had dealers stopping by his place. 

“I can’t tell if you’re a clue, a suspect, or an assistant,” Dirk reached out and grabbed onto Todd’s hand, his grip loose and surprisingly weak. 

“I mean, Farah is the one sewing you up,” Todd was nervous under the attention. Dirk seemed less investigative with that line and more looking for a reaction. Todd did not have the emotional capacity for detective pick up lines right now. Todd stared down at Dirk’s hand, barely holding onto his wrist. Todd felt sick. Two of Dirk’s fingers were broken, swollen and bent in a way that was just off. Dirk let go, instead looking to Farah. 

“Well, much appreciated, Farah. I’d give you my card but I feel like reaching into my pocket right now would be a bit painful at the moment,” Dirk was still incredibly polite, but also a bit overbearing at the same time. Todd did not expect a guy in this much pain to be able to talk this much. 

“I’m almost done, here,” Farah offered. “Todd, could you get the gauze out of my bag?” 

“Yeah- Sure-” Todd stood, going over to Farah’s first aid kit. “Hey- do you have anything to make a splint?” 

“A splint?” Farah hadn’t noticed this injury. 

“Ah, yes, that is a good idea Todd. Hadn’t thought of that,” Dirk stared at his right hand, as if having just noticed the broken bones. “Excellent assisting.” 

“Excellent assist- Dirk, you were bleeding out on my floor this isn’t ‘assisting’ it’s preventing becoming a murder suspect,” Todd grumbled as if he hadn’t been worrying about this guy for weeks. 

“Whatever keeps you sane.” 

Farah finished by bandaging her stitching and taking the thin pieces of metal and tape Todd had fished out of her bag. 

“You just happened to have splints meant for broken fingers?” Todd raised an eyebrow. 

“Ever since I gave you my brass knuckles I’ve been risking a lot more broken bones at work,” she said pointedly. 

“Oh yeah. Forgot about that,” Todd was only a little apologetic. “Wait- how often are you punching people in private security?” 

Farah wasn’t looking him in the eyes, “things happen.” 

“I forget- who do you work for now?” Todd stared at her. 

“None of your business, Todd. People don’t pay me to talk about them,” Farah took the splint a little sharply. 

“O-kay,” Todd decided the smartest thing to do was to not push. Dirk struggled to sit up and Todd helped him, noting the guy swayed dangerously on his own. 

“Ow!” Dirk jumped when Farah grabbed his hand. 

“This is going to hurt, detective, so I would prefer if you didn’t move,” Farah was far calmer with Dirk. 

“Detective-” Dirk looked flattered. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?” 

“Nope. Todd introduced us on your behalf,” Farah started pointedly at Todd, as if inviting him to maybe share how much he had been listening in on the man. 

“How did all this happen to you, anyways?” Todd quickly changed the subject. 

“I was investigating some warehouses days ago and got escorted out, but I had a feeling that there was _something_ important there, so I went back-” 

“You… went back. After the mob escorted you out,” Farah stared at Todd as if looking for confirmation that she was actually hearing this. 

“Well, it was and it _wasn’t_ the mob I’m still not clear on that point. It definitely wasn’t the Calvettis who brought me back to my apartment, but earlier today I think it was the Calvettis who, ah, stopped me?” Dirk explained. “I _tried_ to explain I was there to figure out who the duck belonged to, but they thought I was lying.” 

Todd looked from the blood on Dirk’s head to the bandage on his side to the cut on his leg to the broken fingers. _They thought I was lying._ Todd was surprised they hadn’t broken more than his fingers. 

“How the hell did you get out?” Farah asked. 

“With great skill,” Dirk said. Farah and Todd were unamused. “Well, no, actually. They left me alone and untied me when they-” he gestured to his broken fingers. “-you know, and I just… got up and walked out. I was in the same warehouse that I was investigating so I knew how to get back to my apartment.” 

“They just left you alone?” Farah was still skeptical. 

“Yes. I tend to get lucky like that a lot,” Dirk admitted. 

“They kidnapped and tortured you.” 

“And I tend to get _unlucky_ like that a lot.” 

Farah and Todd exchanged looks. “And you decided coming back here and climbing through a window was a good idea?” Farah asked. 

“I wasn’t going to go to the hospital,” Dirk scoffed. “And, thanks to you, I’m fine,” he gestured to the now repaired patchwork of wounds. 

“And what’s your plan now? Just, wait until the men downstairs give up?” Farah folded her arms across her chest. “Trust me, I know their type, they won’t.” 

“Then I just have to wait for the case to get moving again,” Dirk said. “In the mean time, I’ll be staying here.” 

“You will?” Todd asked. 

“Would you rather I went next door and waited to be murdered?” Dirk crashed on his couch, wincing as he did so. 

Todd stood up incredulously, fully prepared to antagonize the guy who felt entitled to live in his apartment. 

“Todd,” Farah said warningly. Todd stared at her, gesturing to the idiot laying on his couch as explanation. “Dirk- Is there a reason you haven’t called the police?” 

“A few,” Dirk was playful and light in tone, but he was definitely guarded. “It doesn’t matter, anyways, eventually a clue will find me or I will find it.” 

“We’re not doing anything until you’ve gotten some rest,” Todd sighed, reluctant, but no longer planning on arguing with the guy. 

Dirk sat up, “ _we?_ ” 

Todd paused, mouth hanging open. He hadn’t thought through what he had said. But _was_ he planning on leaving this guy to figure things out on his own? It wasn’t like Todd hadn’t been invested in his life for the past two weeks. Farah stared between the two of them, waiting for one to continue. 

“I… might be that clue you were waiting on, Dirk,” Farah began reluctantly. 

“What?” Dirk and Todd said simultaneously. 

“I… I may or may not be running security for a member of the Calvetti family, but he is _not_ involved in organized crime.” 

Dirk was on his feet again, “is he involved in ducks?” 

“Is he-” Farah blinked. “Not particularly.” 

“Particularly? As in he still has some sort of attachment-” Dirk kept moving closer, a vaguely manic excitement startling both other parties. 

“You need to slow down,” Farah reached out to stop him as he staggered a little dangerously on his cut leg. 

“And maybe keep your voice down I doubt they’ve stopped looking for you,” Todd looked to his front door as if expecting a knock. 

“Both of you are terribly worried about me,” Dirk seemed a little bemused by their behavior. 

“Well, Todd has gotten me to be concerned, and actually meeting you has only furthered that,” Farah stared at Todd, giving him the chance to explain once again. 

“What about you, Todd. You came knocking on my door when those men were there, what made you come knocking? You said I was loud and you acted very odd,” Dirk was far too inquiring, he was a proper detective and Todd was ruing the fact now. 

“I… might’ve been hearing stuff about the case… and… you, through your wall,” Todd refused to look at him, bracing for this weirdly forming dynamic to spin out of control. 

“Oh,” a pause, Dirk silent for a moment too long. “Wait- so you already know about the case? Perfect! I can skip explaining, then, does Farah know as well?” 

“No-” 

“Well, in that case, let me catch you up-” 

Todd couldn’t believe it. How _warped_ was this guy’s sense of privacy? Todd hadn’t eavesdropped for any particularly creepy reasons, first irritation, then concern over potential violence, and then, sure, he _had_ gotten invested in all of this, but regardless, Dirk was not supposed to immediately accept this. Todd was morally in the wrong and Dirk was too forgiving, but Todd was relieved nonetheless. He didn’t know why he had gotten so invested in the very man who had irritated him the past few weeks as well. Maybe it was because this was the first time Todd had had purpose in an incredibly long time, no matter how absurd that purpose might seem. For once him and Farah were united in something positive, something _good_ , instead of their own misery. 

“Todd, are you listening?” Dirk turned to him again, Todd still startled by how bright and earnest his eyes were despite all the darkness he had faced alone these past days. He wasn't alone anymore. 

“Yeah, I am,” Todd refocused on the present, on Dirk no longer pale and dizzy and instead absolutely adamant about this case that had baffled Todd for days. 

Despite all his reluctance and the fact that if asked he would resolutely deny it, Todd wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
